Photograph of a Smile
by SydneyMayhem
Summary: TDK Fandom... "I had a Wife, and she was beautiful... they carved her face." That wife was searching for her husband, and knew there was only one place to find him... Harley Quinn must have her Joker.
1. Chapter 1

Churrrll HAAI ALL! This is Chapter one! So, Please, exuse the errors, this isn't a publication. It's a fanfiction. If you flame, I'll assume it's because you're a 40 year old living in your mother's basement and you're never gonna get laid, because it's true. ^^. Flamer's don't bother me, so don't even try. I post for the enjoyment of readers. Readers, don't let this discourage you from commenting. I love comments. Praise, even some criticisms as long as it's CONSTRUCTIVE. Thanks! Enjoy.

"I keep forgettin' how much I hate Gotham," She murmured to herself as she began to cross the street. Every time she had come here, it had always been the same: "No, we've never seen this man... " And the stares. Everyone stared at her as though she didn't notice them staring. A few times she had called them out on it, but it never seemed to take any effect. Besides, there were hundreds of thousands of people in the city. So many people to stare at her, so many people to sift through for him. She may never even find him... but she refused to think like that. She WOULD find him, make amends with him, and they'd be one happy family again.

=HONK!=

The bus's horn jolted her out of her reverie, and as she pulled her red scarf back over her scarred face, she looked into the window at the strange man driving. He wore strange, clownesque makeup, and he was so very familiar... No, it couldn't be him, she decided, and she yelled,"Hey, watch where yer goin', Bozo! This ain't clown college ya know!" She just walked away nonchalantly when he laughed and waved a glock at her before speeding away and joining into a long line of school buses full of children. "Geez, the freaks in this town!" she exclaimed, then turned the corner on the sidewalk. She accidentally bumped someone, and in her haste to hide her face yet again, she dropped her picture of him. It was the only picture of him with the scars she had... and her only hope of finding him. "Excuse me, Miss, but I believe you dropped this," the handsome, albeit shady-looking, young man hailed her, smiling and holding up the picture. She held her scarf up with one hand. "Thanks, I need that," She replied shortly, reaching for it with her other hand, but the man pulled it back and looked at it closer. "This gentleman looks quite familiar... the name on the back, 'Jack Napier', is that an accurate name?" He asked her pryingly. "What else would his name be, if it's not the one on the back? Why would I write that name on the back of a picture of 'The Great Houdini' or whatever?" she snapped, reaching for the photo. Again, he pulled back, smiling in a friendly way. "I'm sorry for the spanish inquisition, but in this town, you never know about names. Everyone wears a mask in one way or another, whether it be a face put on for work that's not there at home, or a big ugly Cape and Cowl to disguise oneself in the vigilante fight against crime, and that just makes it harder to find someone. By the way, I couldn't help but notice you're also wearing a mask of sorts," He spoke intelligently. "Yeah, well, I have my reasons for my 'mask', thank you very much. What's it matter to you?" "I happen to have a degree in psychiatry and have made a hobby in the psychological breakdown and complexes of people's need for masks. Even I have a mask. Would you like to see it?" He explained, as he reached into a laptop bag hanging from his shoulder. "No, thank you, I'd just like my picture back." She reached for the photo again, and this time, he let her have it. She began to walk away. "Oh, and by the way, I do believe I have seen that man recently," He called, stopping her in her tracks. She pivoted, and walked swiftly back up to him. "You've seen him? Where? When? Do you know where I can find him now?" She practically yelled in her excitement. He laughed slightly. "I'm sorry if I've gotten your hopes up, my dear, because I can't tell you were to find him, but I can give you some Information about him..." He trailed off. "You mean, for a price, right? Are you, like, the therapist of the Gotham underworld or somethin? Do ya sell drugs to the mob?" She asked, suddenly doubtful as to whether she should trust this man; she knew his type all too well. "Well, I'm not at liberty to discuss my business dealings with anyone, but because you seem so knowledgable on the subject, then... Yes, I do all those things you said, but that's no reason for you to not trust me." "No reason to trust you either." He shrugged. "That's true, I guess, but I suggest we not continue this conversation in the middle of the street. You never know who may be listening." He led her into a nearby alleyway and through a door. On the other side, there was a small, shabby looking office. He bolted the door and sat at the lone desk. "I don't believe we have been properly introduced. I am Doctor Jonathan Crane. You can take that scarf off now." She hesitated, then removed the scarf, watching for a reaction of disgust. There wasn't disgust on his face, just suprise and facination. "Wow, you really must want to find him, huh?" "How much is this gonna cost me, Doc?" She asked curtly. "For the value of the Information I hold, I would normally charge $2,000-" "Two GRAND for a little info? That's a ripoff! I'm outta here," She exclaimed as she stood up, enraged. Dr. Crane also stood and moved between her and the door. "You didn't let me finish, Miss... what was your name, again?" She glared at him, then decided, what the hell, just dealing with him is trouble, what more would a name do? "DOCTOR Harleen Quinzel...But call Me Harley Quinn, everyone does." "Harley Quinn? That's very interesting... as I was saying, Quinn, That is how much i would normally charge, but for you, I'll give it away... $200. I won't go any lower, so if you really want the information I have to give..." "All right, all right, i get the picture! Geez, Doc..." She pulled some bills out of her wallet and threw them on the desk. "But I don't want any of your shady drugs, Dr. Crane... I already feel crazy enough." "$200 is hardly enough to buy- wait," He stepped back, suprised. "You know about my compound?" "Who in Gotham DON'T know about that? It was all over the news, and you're supposed to be dead, but that don't matter. Oh, and I didn't wanna see your mask because I already know about it, Doc. Or, should I say 'Scarecrow'?" Harley said, crossing her arms. Dr. Crane allowed a small smile. "Well, you ARE a smart one. But, that also means that you have most of the information that I'm going to give you about 'Jack Napier', Unless you haven't been watching the news since the Narrows Incident, as they're calling it." "As a matter of fact, I've been out of town since not long after the Incident, so anything you have to tell me would be valuable information to me." She sat back down. "Well, Quinn, I hope what I tell you is very helpful in your search. You do realize that even if you find him, in Gotham, he probably won't answer to 'Jack Napier'. Since- I mean, If he's made a reputation for himself, that would be a little too dangerous for him, you understand. But the man in this photo is almost identical to the mastermind behind the latest spree of robberies and terrorist attacks here in Gotham. By terrorist attacks, I mean random explosions, unexplained murders, etc. They call him the "Joker". There are different stories as to why this is his name, but he likes to leave Joker cards at the scene of every crime, he tells horrible Jokes and riddles, Performs gruesome magic tricks, and he can't resist letting the cops see his face. He wears makeup, kind of like what the thugs call 'warpaint', in the style of a grotesque clown. It's very messy, and obvously, the Joker has scars very much like yours, which are painted red along with his lips to resemble a clown's smile. His hair is grown out, and dyed green. He also favors wearing a tacky purple and green suit, and carries a random array of knives, guns, and explosives. He is the most Insane person I have ever heard of, and that includes myself. The only other person in this town that may come close is the Batman. I advise you to stay out of HIS way. That's about all I have." Crane's cell phone rang then, and he answered it. "Doctor Crane... uh-huh... well, that's interesting, who-... Ah, but of course. Thank you." he hung up. "You know, you just missed him on the corner a little while ago. I just recieved intelligence that the nearby bank, a mob bank, was just robbed. The cops were able to save most of the tellers, but the Chairman was found dead, along with five hired thugs in clown masks. The tellers each held grenades without the pins, holding for dear life. I'm recieving via Text message the surveillance video. It's the Joker, Taking off a clown mask to reveal his clown face, speaking with the Chairman, and then getting onto a bus and driving away-" Harley stopped listening. She stared at the photo of Jack, and remembered the Bus driver who nearly ran her over. Suddenly, everything went into place. She wasn't going to find Jack Napier in Gotham, because he no longer existed. That was why she'd been unable to find any records of him, past or present. Now she realized she was looking for The Joker. The police were probably still taking evidence and ruining things at the bank, so there was no hope in discovering anything there, but maybe if she hacked into the GCPD records, she could find more about the Joker, and piece the puzzle, and her heart, back together. She abruptly stood. "Thank you very Much for your time and help, Doc. I really need to be going now." "You're welcome, Quinn. I need to be going myself. I have a business deal to conduct. Oh, If you ever want any of my compound... It'll take you places..." "No thanks, doc. They're probably places I don't wanna go." Crane Laughed, and opened the door for her. "That's about right." It was drawing close to twilight. "You might need to get wherever you're going before it's too dark. The wildlife in Gotham is, well, unique." "Thanks again, Dr. Crane!" She shook his hand and then rushed out the door and up the street.


	2. Chapter 2

The walls of the townhouse room Harley rented were wallpapered with newspaper articles, photos, and written notes, all regarding the with a small police scanner, the dresser and small table were covered with scattered knives, Joker cards, and makeup supplies, and the bed and floor were littered with scraps of cloth and thread, while sewing needles stuck out of the bedside lampshade. The television was always on GCN, Gotham's most popular news network, and she had tapes stacked next to the T.V. stand where she had recorded every submitted video by The Joker, Every newscast regarding his latest crime, even the late night comedy show where they parodied his rivalry with the Batman. Harley was idly flipping through an old photo album from before... well, before the scars, before the pain, before the heartache, before the Joker. She stopped and stared at a photo taken on their first date, and sank into memories. It was a nicer restaurant, but not too formal. She was wearing a blue-jean miniskirt and a red tank top, he wore a purple T-shirt, Black sports jacket, and jeans. She remembered afterwards they went to a classic black and white movie, and they ended the night with a romantic walk in the park. That night was when she fell in love. "-I had a vision of a world Without Batman. The mob ground out a little profit, and the police tried to shut them down one block at a time. And it was so... boring." The Joker's voice sounded from the television speakers, and Harley quickly grabbed the remote and pressed the VCR record button. "...But why should I have all the fun? Let's give someone else a chance. If Coleman Reese isn't dead in 60 minutes, then I blow up a Hospital." This was her chance. She may very well find him today, at a hospital... But which one? Quickly moving to the table, she brushed a few knives aside and switched on the scanner. Within seconds, it had keyed into a busy frequency. - Bomb threat on hospitals in Gotham, requesting countywide backup, SWAT, search-and-rescue, school buses for evac. K-9 units if available. Dispatch One unit to GCN headquarters to pick up Coleman Reese. Gotham Central Hospital number 1 priority. Over. - -10-4 - She switched it back off. Gotham Central is priorty, huh? That wasn't too far from here, but if she didn't hurry, she may not make it. As it was, he may be somewhere else altogether, but she was going to take the chance. She needed to hurry, though, or she would miss her window of opportunity, and walking wouldn't get her anywhere. Glancing out the window, she saw a motorcycle across the street, in which the owner had left the keys. Not a smart move in this town, she thought, but she wasn't going to criticize. It was as though fate was giving her the means to accomplish her goal, and if it was just luck, maybe she'd buy a powerball ticket tonight. Laughing joyfully, she quickly ran out the door, grabbing her leather jacket and scarf and donning them as she moved down the townhouse stairs. Bursting out into the sunlight, she paused for a few precious moments, then crossed the street, fired up the bike, and quickly pulled away from the sidewalk, speeding towards Gotham Central. There was a road that ran on a hill past the Hospital, and she sped down it. She had just passed into sight of the building when, suddenly, there was a roadblock. She very agily leapt off the bike, which fell to the side and skidded a few yards before stopping. A police officer quickly rushed over. "Are you alright?" He asked, concerned, helping her up and eyeing her scarf suspiciously. "I'm fine. I'm just trying to get down there," she pointed to the hospital, making up a story quickly,"so I can pick my friend up. She was moved there after a small traffic accident this morning and had to get a few stitches, but none of her family could pick her up until this evening, and when I heard about the threat, I- I just have to get her out of there!" "Ma'am, it's going to be okay. Everyone has been evacuated from Gotham General and are being moved to other hospitals." "Officer, I need to go down there and find her before they leave. If she's on one of those buses..." "But she may have already left." "I need to know! She's my best friend, and i've been worried sick all day about her." The officer looked around, then told her,"Fine, but make it quick, and if anything happens, get yourself out first. Take care. Oh, and next time, wear a Helmet. I'll let you off with a warning this time." Harley went and picked up the motorcycle, and cranked it. The accident hadn't done anything major to it, just some scratches. "Thank you, officer!" she yelled over the engine's roar, then veered off the road, and straight down the hill to the hospital. She was halfway across the parking lot when she was stopped again. "Miss, you can't go any farther." She ignored him and revved the bike, passing him, not glancing back at his shocked expression. She stopped at the third bus from the emergency exit and dismounted. Here, she could walk closer to the hospital, but if things got hairy, she could quickly move back to the bike, which she left running. There were explosions inside the hospital, screams erupted all around her from the school buses, and a rather strange looking nurse walked out. Harley didn't believe that the nurse was really a nurse, however, and her conviction grew stronger when the nurse stopped when the explosions died, and looked very exasperated. Harley looked closer as the nurse pulled a trigger remote device from a pocket, and noticed the strange clown makeup the nurse was wearing... it was him, the Joker! She took a step closer, until there was another chain of even larger explosions, and then He started running toward her. Harley was frozen with anticipation, but instead, he jumped into the back door of the closest school bus, which quickly took off, along with the remaining buses. All hope diminished, she quickly ran back to her bike and attempted to follow the school bus that the Joker had boarded, but it was quickly lost in the confusion of buses and the smoke and debris from the explosion. Despair and desperation swirled around her thicker than the smoke. How would she ever find the Joker now? He could be going anywhere... but probably not a hospital. He'll probably take everyone on that bus hostage and use them in his next introduction of chaos. She suddenly had an epiphany of sorts. She'd been holding on to hope so long, and come so close, why give up now? She'd get another chance, or die trying sooner or later; and the way this town was, sooner was the more likely of choices. She headed back to her townhouse, quickly hiding the bike in the alleyway behind it. Entering her room and locking the door behind her, she sat back on the bed and gazed dispassionately at the television. "- people are still missing, including GCN's own Mike Engel. I'm now being told that we're cutting to a video GCN has just recieved..." Harley sat up straighter, turning the television up. " I'm Mike Engel for Gotham Tonight. What does it take for you people to want to join in? You failed to kill the lawyer. I've gotta get you off the bench -" "-Bench-" the joker interrupted quietly. "-And into the game." "-Game." Joker echoed with a chuckle. "Come nightfall, the city is mine -" "-Mine-" "And anyone left here plays by my rules." "- Rules." "If you don't want to be in the game, Get out Now." "Get. Out. Now." "But the bridge and tunnel crowd are sure in for a surprise. Ha-ha, ha-ha." The screen panned to show the Joker laughing, then cut out. Harley turned off the television, and pulled out her laptop, punching in keys to hack into anything she could use to help her find the Joker. Eventually, she came to a promising file in the Wayne Enterprises computers; a sonar device, recently pieced together in the R & D Department. She hacked access into it and settled down to listen in on all of Gotham's conversations.


	3. Chapter 3

Harley had been listening for hours, and was beginning to lose faith in Wayne Enterprises' Sonar device. Nothing had come up, just random ramblings of phone conversations to families, panicking civilians, and the usual gotham gunshots. She thought at one point she had heard D.A. Harvey Dent, but he wasn't any of her concern. All she wanted was the Joker. Every now and then his name came up in conversation, but it was usually someone telling a family member outside of Gotham the latest news. Then she heard his announcement over the ferries' intercoms. " Tonight you're all going to be a part of a social experiment. Through the magic of diesel fuel and ammonium nitrate, I'm ready right now to blow you all sky high." - Liberty, Come in, Over. - "It's dead." " If anyone attempts to get off their boat, you all die. Each of you has a remote to blow up the other boat." There was a cell phone interruption. "I have the Joker's Location," the low, gravelly voice of Batman growled at Commissioner Gordon. Harley quickly turned up her computer's volume. "Prewitt Building. Assemble on the building opposite." The Joker's transmittion continued. "At midnight, I blow you all up. If, however, one of you presses the button, I'll let that boat live. So, who's it going to be? Harvey Dent's most-wanted scumbag collection, or the sweet and innocent civilians? You Choose. Oh, and you might wanna decide quickly because the people on the other boat may not be quite so noble." It ended as abruptly as it began, with the faint sound of arguement ensuing in it's place. Harley knew then that this was her best chance to find him; she already knew where he was, she just needed to get there in time, and how ironic it would be if she got things amended and the way they should be between her and Jack- No, not Jack anymore, Joker- before midnight. She hurried out the door, stopping only to lock it, and into the alley to her hidden motorcycle. Speeding dangerously, she peeled out onto the street in the direction of the Prewitt Building. Everything seemed to be working against her, however, as she had to slow down to manuver through the thick traffic, getting stopped at almost every red light between her and her destination. It took her nearly fifteen minutes to get to the building, and as she looked up, she thought she could just discern the signs of a struggle on the top floor. There was the indistinct sound of an argument, then suddenly, horrifyingly, someone went flying off the building and started falling; someone in a purple suit, laughing maniacally. As horrified as she was, his laughter was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. Watching him fall, feeling a mix of pure terror for him and joy at finally knowing exactly where he was, he suddenly seemed to stop in mid-air and rise back up. Finally getting fed up with guessing, she pulled a pair of binoculars out of the saddlebag and focused them on him. Batman had the Joker dangling from the scaffolding by the ankle, then the SWATs moved in to apprehend him. Would she ever find him now? Yes, she would, because she knew where they were gonna lock him up: Arkham Asylum. She had interned there years ago when she was in college for psychology. Security may be a bit tighter, but surely the layout was the same... but how to be sure? Could she find someone who had recently been incarcerated, or employed, there? She thought for a moment; Doctor Jonathan Crane! Why, without the funding of the Asylum when he was still a doctor, he couldn't have developed his fear hallucinagens. She revved her bike and moved as fast as she could to his "office." When she got there, she knocked eagerly on the door and waited... and waited. Finally, a short, balding man in an expensive suit opened the door, leaving the chain-lock attached. "Who is it? What do you want?" he asked warily. "I'm looking for Dr. Crane. Is he in the office?" Harley asked politely. "No, he's not in the office and-" Harley interrupted him. "How can I get in contact with him? It's important." The man laughed. "I suppose you'd have to go to Arkham to talk to him about... uh, whatever it is." "Arkham?" He chuckled again. "Yeah, Arkham, are you deaf? He got caught, oh, i don't know when, by The Batman, sellin his drugs to the Greek." "The Greek? Where is He?" Harley asked impatiently. The man's laughing stopped. "He's dead... and so is that Lao guy; serves him right, the lyin' thief. Joker whacked 'em earlier today. Half the mob's gone! Maroni's car was found flipped and flaming on the side of the road. the driver was shot, and a couple of Maroni's men in the GCPD got offed earlier too. I'm leavin town of my own accord, before I get sent out in a pine box!" with that, he slammed the door in her face. She considered breaking it down, then decided he wasn't worth HER effort. As for getting into Arkham, she was now on her own. No one in this town would help her, except Crane, probably, and he was no good to her already in. She'd just have to wing it; there was no way to plan for this. She got back on the motorcycle and went back to her townhouse, deciding to try the asylum's "visiting hours" first thing the next morning. When she arrived at her room, she started pulling boxes out of the closet and from under the bed. All of her newspapers, notes, and photos went into one shoebox, while all of her street clothes, except a pair of jeans, a sweater, and her scarf, went into a rollalong suitcase. She also boxed up all the videotapes into shoeboxes and piled them on top of her suitcase, securing them with long strips of scrap cloth. She dumped all the knives, sewing needles, and Joker cards into a small black bag, but left out all the makeup supplies, neatly separating the normal from her new "performance makeup." She also picked up the remaining scraps of cloth and threw them away. Last, but not least, she picked up her little sewing project, a black and red harlequin style shirt, with a matching jester hat, and the ripped up and patched matching jeans, and folded them neatly on a chair. Turning off the main light, she switched on a bedside lamp and opened the old photo album to her favorite picture again. She fell asleep gazing at the last evidence of their young love.


	4. Chapter 4

She stood, frozen, outside the Gate to Arkham Asylum. Its tall, imposing structure towered over Gotham, seeming to some to suck the very soul out of the city. It almost had a mind of it's own, it's own voice. Harley could almost hear it speak to her, with a very sinister taunt. ~Welcome to Arkham. Don't look so afraid, I won't HURT you. I look after people like you. I just know we'll have FUN together! I'm your 'friend'.~ She tried not to think of the reinforced steel behind the brick facade. She tried to ignore the voice. ~You can shut out the voices from the OUTSIDE, but you can never escape the voices inside your OWN head.~ She had gotten up early that morning to prepare; a curly, dark wig, glasses, even a very expensive rubbery makeup thinly applied over her face to make the scars virtually invisible. She was almost unrecognizable even to herself. She had fabricated a false press pass to identify herself as Harleen Quinzel... her birth name, and she new it was a risky move in itself, but if - WHEN she pulled this off, it wouldn't matter anyway. She'd be a wanted criminal. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, which didn't help much, she walked up to the Iron gates and pressed the button on the Security intercom. -Who is it?- "Um, Hi. I'm Harleen Quinzel with Gotham Times. I understand that there are open Visitor's hours, and I would like to speak with the Caretaker, if he's not busy." -One moment- She waited outside the locked gates, holding her breath. A few minutes that seemed like an eternity later, the intercom buzzed again. -Doctor Jeremiah Arkham will see you now. Please proceed through the gate and stop at the main entrance for security.- "Thank you." The gates slowly rolled open, and as soon as they were open far enough, she quickly moved through. They closed with a solid clash behind her, a clash that very nearly sounded like laughter. She moved quickly up to the main entrance, where security barely glanced at her forged press credentials. "Alright, Ms. Quinzel, follow me to Dr. Arkham's office. He'll help you with whatever you need." The young security guard led her into the asylum. She heard the sounds of bedlam: creaking gourneys echoing in the empy, white-tiled halls, Inmates pounding on the walls, Cries of pain that seemed to resound from around every corner. She could almost smell the fear, the blood, the madness. ~Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you come and join the dance?~ "Doctor, you have a visitor," the security guard announced, escorting Harley into Dr. Arkham's office, where the asylum itself was dispelled. The office looked very much like one of a college dean, roomy and comfortable. The Doctor was an elderly man, bespectacled and thin, yet he carried himself with a certain pride that only a very confident and longstanding doctor would have. Jeremiah Arkham was the kind of man who could make even an innocent person confess to a crime. The doctor closed a file folder he had been looking at and stored it in his desk, standing to greet his guest. "Hello there, Miss-" "Harleen Quinzel, Gotham Times." She showed him her fake press badge. "Hmm, Gotham Times? I'm not too much of an avid reader of the paper myself, Ms. Quinzel." She forced a laugh. "I'm the new girl, the rookie. I've not written any hardhitting pieces, yet, Doctor." He looked at her over his glasses with colorless eyes that seemed to be able to see right through her. "A rookie, that's interesting. So they sent you to do a piece on Arkham Asylum as an initiation, I assume?" She nodded, absolutely sure that he was going to call her out any moment as a liar. "They always seem to send the rookies. They must be to... intimidated to do the piece themselves." She relaxed as he chuckled at his own joke. "Are you familiar with the Asylum's history?" "No, doctor, i'm afraid i'm not." As a matter of fact, she was. A very long time ago, she had worked as an Intern here. She remembered that with with a jolt, mentally kicking herself for using her real name. But, there was NO way he'd recognize her, she didn't remember Jeremiah Arkham being the caretaker when she worked here. She recalled that he was a psychology professor at Metropolis University, Gotham's sister college. He very rarely ventured to the asylum, and she'd never associated with him when he had. "Well, Ms. Quinzel, there has, in fact, been an Arkham in charge of this facility for decades. The very first Arkham, Amadeus, founded the asylum. Eventually they fortified the building with reinforced steel and concrete. We are the central hub of not only Psychological, but all medical and criminal research in the county. Unfortunately, the reputation of this prestigious facility has been tainted with rumors, and an unfortunate mishap some months ago was confirmed to have taken place in the building's sewers." "Excuse me, Doctor, but you are referring to the 'Narrows Incident'?" "You're not too misinformed, Ms. Quinzel. Fortunately, we have the culprit, Jonathan Crane, in custody. There were unconfirmed reports that he was dead, but now that we know he's not, it's safe to release that information. But enough of the history lesson. Would you like to tour the facility, or is there something else I can help you with?" He scrutinized her, and she had the feeling that he at least had an Idea what she was after. "Doctor, I'm actually here to... find out more about the Joker. If that's possible." The doctor walked around his desk to stand in front of Harley. "That's very... interesting. I knew it would happen eventually, and I really can't release information about him, and I can't arrange for him to have an interview with you without his permission. He isn't supposed to leave the maximum security wing, in fact, and it's far to dangerous for you to venture there by yourself. If i could, I would make an exception just for you, Ms. Quinzel, but, alas, there is no way for me to do so - unless... " "Unless, Doctor?" she pressed. She wasn't going to give up. "Unless I gave you an exclusive tour, and we 'happened' upon the maximum security wing in which the Joker is being held. From there, you would be able to see the Joker for a few moments, long enough to introduce yourself, maybe, and then we'd continue the tour. You would then 'unfortunately' fall behind somehow and lose me, and find your way back you him, and get your interview, maybe." Simply for the sake of her ruse, she pretended to be skeptical of that plan. "But, doctor, wouldn't that be in a way, illegal for both of us?" "I am the caretaker of this facility. As long as I'm giving you the tour, Ms. Quinzel, you have access to all areas of Arkham Asylum."


	5. Chapter 5

Dr. Arkham was speaking loudly and pompously for the sake of the security cameras. "And through this gate is the Maximum Security wing, where the dangerous criminals, such as Jonathan Crane, Carmine Falcone, and our newest guest, the 'Joker', take residence." "Might we take a look, Doctor?" Harley also spoke loudly, as she looked around, taking mental note of fire, security cameras and microphones. "Oh, I don't know, Miss... it's very dangerous-" "I'm sure I will be safe with you, Doctor Arkham." "Of course you will be dear," He smiled and opened the gate with his security pass, then layed it on the table. They walked through it and down the hallway. He showed her a door. "This is Carmine Falcone's cell. He's rather unstable." Falcone cried out from inside the cell,"Scarecrow! NOOO get him away from me! Aaaah!" Harley and Dr. Arkham moved on. "This is Jonathan Crane, formerly a doctor here at Arkham Asylum. He's been avoiding apprehension under the psudemonium 'scarecrow'." Crane looked out at Harley. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" Harley took a step back. If he blew her cover... "No, I don't believe so. I'm Harleen Quinzel with the Gotham Times." "Harleen Quinzel," he stared at her; she stared back. "Hmm, must have mistaken you for someone else, my apologies." Dr. Arkham escorted Harley to the last cell. "This cell is occupied by The Joker. He is a very interesting subject." Harley stepped up to the door. Sure enough, the Joker sat on the cot in his orange jumpsuit. He glanced up at Harley and Dr. Arkham. "Good Morning, Doctor. It it already time for my 'medication'?" Dr. Arkham checked his watch. "Not quite. You'll have to wait a few more hours." The joker nodded, smacking his lips. "I see you have a guest, doc. Are you showing the lady around your little Zoo?" Harley couldn't take her eyes off him; she couldn't believe it was actually him. She was so close to him, she could almost reach out and touch him. "And who might you be, beautiful?" Maybe he'd recognize her name. "I'm Harleen Quinzel, Mr. Joker, with the Gotham Times." "Harleen... Quinzel," Suddenly, she realized HE may blow her cover. She held her breath, waiting for it to happen... "That's a lovely name for a lovely woman. You look nervous; it's the scars, isn't it?" She relaxed. "No, Mr. Joker, it's not the scars-" "Wanna know how I got 'em?" Dr. Arkham decided to intercede then. "Miss Quinzel, we need to move on, there's still so much for me to show you." He led her away and out of the high security wing. They were going down another hallway, Dr. Arkham seemingly rattling on and on about different aspects of Arkham Asylum and not really paying attention to her. She fell back, pretending to look at a bulletin board on the wall. As soon as the doctor was out of site, she hurried back to the high security wing. She picked up the security pass he left on the table and opened the gate, walking swiftly toward the Joker's cell. ~I'll ask again... won't you come and join the dance?~ She replied out loud reflexively, "I'm a lousy dancer." "Is that so?" The Joker quipped out from his cell. "That's good, because I stink at dancing too. Welcome back, beautiful." Once again, she was struck by how close she was to him. She reached up to touch the glass, wanting to touch him, forgetting all about the security pass in her hand. "I suppose you're only here to get the 'inside scoop' on me, though. Oh, how you people try to use me!" "No, that... that's not it at all," she lowered her voice. "I'm not really a reporter-" "Then what are you doing here? Come to see the 'freak'? Because I'm all over the news... at least, I hope I am." "I'm here to bust you out." He looked at her incredulously, then looked at the door handle. "Well, then, by all means, work your magic, Harleen Quinzel. I hope you can get me through security." She held up the security pass Dr. Arkham left behind. "I think we'll manage." She quickly used it to unlock his cell. ~Leaving so soon? But we were just BEGINNING our fun!~ "Come on, let's go," she grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward the gate. "Hey, Quinn, let me out! Please!" Crane beat on his cell door. She sighed and scanned the card to let him out too. "Thanks!" he said, and ran ahead of them. "Crane, wait... hey!" She cried out to him, growling in aggravation. "Oh-ho, I see you know some of the guys in here better than you let on, missy!" The Joker said. "Better than even you know right now," she murmured. They quickly followed Crane out the security gate, but instead of going down the hallway where he went, Harley led Joker to the nearby fire exit. Before she opened the door, however, he stopped her hand and pulled the fire alarm, then pushed her out the cacophony of alarms was almost unbearable, but it got them across the yard and to the main gate unnoticed. They crouched down and waited, and as soon as the gate was open to let the fire trucks in, Harley grabbed his hand and pulled him outside into the Gotham streets. They ran as fast as they could until she had to stop. ~I'll see you both again, soon enough, don't worry, my friends.~ "Well, Harleen Quinzel, I thank you for helping me out of there, but i have anarchy to create so-" The Joker took a theatrical bow and started walking off. "WAIT, you can't just GO! I've been waiting too long to-" "To what? Meet me in person? Well, like I said, thank you, beautiful. Maybe we'll meet again some day," he replied with a laugh and started walking again. She gritted her teeth. "Jack, stop." He froze in his tracks and turned his head to look back at her. "What did you call me?" She reached up and pulled the wig and glasses off, revealing her blonde hair and blue eyes, then peeled off the thin, rubbery makeup to reveal her scars. "It's me. Please, don't leave me." He looked at her, or rather glared, as she walked closer to him. He took a step back. "Jack is dead now. It's Joker!" He smiled wickedly. "But I took your advice. I smile more now, Pooh! I'm always smiling! Oh, but you didn't like my new smile, so YOU left ME... and now I will leave you." "No! Please! Don't leave! I can explain-" "Go right ahead, then! Explain." "I didn't leave because of you... I left because of ME! I didn't want you to have to look at THIS," she pointed to her scarred face,"every day for the rest of our lives! And... and when you did that... I couldn't handle it! I needed to be alone... to understand WHY you would do something like that to yourself! I always wanted to come back, and when I did, you were gone. I'm sorry! I want you, and I need you." "You want me, and you NEED me? There isn't anything else there?" he licked his lips. "I... I love you." He raised his eyebrows. "And I'm supposed to believe that.. how? You left Me, remember... how can you prove to me that you really do love me?" She took a step back. How indeed? "I'll do anything." "You see, I can't be with someone who isn't at least almost as fun as I am! Prove to me, and to all of Gotham, that we belong together; that nothing will stand between you and me." With that, he walked off, leaving Harley shellshocked, hailing a taxi and Pulling the poor cabbie out of the driver's seat, stealing his car and saying,"Excuse me, I wanna drive!" The guy yelled out, and started running after the taxi, but gave up really fast. He saw Harley, and ran up to her. "Did you SEE that? Oh, lady, ya gotta help me out! My boss is gonna kill me!" She sighed and reached into her handbag, pulling out a handgun and aiming it at him. "No, I am."

=BLAM!=

She didn't care who saw; actually, she hoped lots of people saw. She stowed the gun back into her purse and pulled out a permanent marker and lipstick, using them to draw the Joker's face over the dead man's. Then, she ripped open his shirt and started writing:

He's my Clown Prince of Crime, I'm his Queen of Hearts.

Nothing will keep us apart... Nothing and Nobody.

3 Harley Quinn

She stood up and calmly walked away from the scene, barely noticing the screams as they erupted.


End file.
